


Cling

by badwolfbadwolf



Series: Mating Games [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Lingerie, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:56:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfbadwolf/pseuds/badwolfbadwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wears black lace panties for Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cling

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Mating Games Week 4 Challenge: Light & Dark. #56
> 
> I can be found on the toombles as [badwolfbadwolff](http://badwolfbadwolff.tumblr.com)!

Derek had kind of expected Stiles to say no, to just flat out refuse and laugh at him.  Instead he’d gotten that goofy grin that he often did and bounded up, kissing Derek like his life was ending.  And yeah, he knew what that felt like because that kind of kiss had happened once or twice before.  Derek should’ve known better really, because Stiles is always 110% all in on everything, especially when it involves his dick.  

So now here he is, sweating on his bed and uncomfortably hard in just his boxers while Stiles thumps around in the bathroom so he can “slip into something more comfortable.”  When he comes out he’s wearing his gray hoodie and jeans, and Derek has to fight to keep the slightly disappointed frown off his face.

Stiles crawls over the foot of the bed, up the long stretch of Derek’s legs and settling over his thighs.  Derek blinks at him, opens his mouth as if to speak, and then Stiles is pressed up against him and kissing him, tongue slipping out to lick at the corners of his mouth.  Derek groans into it, paws at the too-many layers of clothes Stiles has covering him, fisting into the cotton of his shirt and drawing it upward so he can run his fingers all over the smooth skin.

“Nuh-uh, big boy,” Stiles says with a grin into Derek’s lips, pulling the bottom one between his teeth and sucking lightly.  The slight sting sends a buzz over Derek’s skin, makes his tongue feel thick behind his teeth, his throat tight with nerves.  “You wanted a show, you’ll get a show.”

Derek pushes his head back against the wall as Stiles grinds down into him, wrapping his hands around Derek’s wrists and holding them down to the bed.  Derek could easily overpower him, but he doesn’t.  He lets Stiles move him where he wants him, lets Stiles brush his cherry red lips across his chest, leaves his hands where Stiles tells him to leave them.

Stiles crosses his arms to tug off his shirt, his body stretching up in the process, chest sleek and strong.  Derek feels himself pitch forward, a bit desperate to get his hands on what’s his, to trace patterns on the smattering of moles, especially those ones clustered near Stiles’ hipbone and dipping downward.  Derek manages to keep his fingers to himself, gripping into the sheets, and Stiles smiles at him beatifically.

“Good boy.”

Derek curves his hips upward at the words, warmth spreading over his skin like summer heat.

Stiles shimmies off of him and raises to his knees, makes a show of popping open the button of his jeans and slipping them down his hips just enough to reveal a tiny bit of black lace.  The glistening head of his cock is peeking out the top, pink and gorgeous, and Derek groans and tightens his fingers into fists.

“Can I…?” he grunts out, his dick squeezing out precome and wetting the front of his boxers.

“Not yet,” Stiles teases, shifting over and pulling his jeans down the rest of the way.  Derek’s throat goes dry as he takes in Stiles’ body, pale and thin, all legs and elbows and black lace panties clinging to him perfectly.  The long line of his cock is obscene, the pink flesh pressed tight against his belly by the lace, the dark fabric a stark contrast to the white luster of his skin.

“Do you like it?” Stiles asks, and Derek draws hooded eyes upward, his nostrils flaring as he scents the arousal in the air and a bit of nervousness on Stiles’ part as he awaits the answer.

“Yes,” Derek finally manages once his brain starts functioning again.  “Please?”  One word sentences are all he’s capable of at this point.

Stiles nods and Derek surges forward, hands searching everywhere, over the peak of a nipple, the flat of Stiles’ belly, the tip of his leaking cock.  Stiles groans beautifully when Derek closes his paw-like hand over the front of the panties, squeezing him gently.  They press down to the bed, Derek weighing Stiles down, Stiles’ legs spreading easily beneath him.

“So fucking gorgeous,” Derek purrs as he plays with the edges of the black lace, brushing along the base of Stiles’ balls that don’t quite fit behind the fabric and making him absolutely shudder.  “Want to make a mess in your pretty panties for me, baby?”

Stiles tips his head back and moans.


End file.
